Trials and Torments
by Morbid Desires
Summary: Elena's fears resurface into her subconscious with bright, vivid, terrifying colors.


**Disclaimer: As always, I do not own the characters or ideas/references that may lead to whomever owns Zorro. The plot and anything else unrecognizable is mine.**

**A/N: It has been pointed out to me that I have some mistakes... hey, nobody's perfect, right? I apologize, I am terribly sorry that these were here, and I am even more ashamed that it has taken me so long to fix the errors, but here we are now, and hopefully everything is correct. Again, terribly sorry, and I hope you still enjoyed it and will continue to have patience with me.**

She was getting ready for a party when she felt him enter. He came up behind her and wrapped his strong arms around her waist, gently nuzzling at her neck. Alejandro had returned from saving the people once again. She turned, intending to plant a kiss upon those needy lips but instead of looking into her husband's kind, caring face and loving eyes she found she was staring into Armand's power hungry gaze.

"Did you miss me, Elena?" he asked with a grin. Stunned, Elena stared for a while before the situation began to dawn on her. Alejandro and Joaquin would not be safe in the same house as Armand! Ripping free from his grasp she ran from her bedroom, trying desperately to make it to Joaquin's but it seemed for every step she took forward the door got farther away. Finally she arrived and there was only a thin separation of wood between her and the inside of his room. A scream sounded and she flung the doors open just in time to see Joaquin slump to the floor and Armand leave through the window. Elena ran to the window, not sure what she would do if she were to catch the Frenchman but she had to do something. When she got to the window though, the man was nowhere to be found. Tears began to fill her vision and a strangled cough sounded from behind her.

Crying, she crouched next to her fallen son and saw only accusation in his eyes when he looked up at her,

"You said you would always protect me, Mum…" and then he was gone, lying limp in her arms. She only cried harder and rocked her boy back and forth, willing him to live again. She lowered him to the ground and closed his eyes, wiping the tears and blood stains from his face; he had put up a fight it appeared. Elena crouched over her son and cried into his hair, wondering how she had failed him. After a few long minutes Alejandro rushed in, but before Elena could even speak she heard a gunshot and a red flower bloomed over Alejandro's heart, looking at her he asked, "Why didn't you warn me?" and then he, too, fell.

With a wail that resembled the cry of a wounded animal Elena crawled to her husband while trying to still be in contact with Joaquin. She pulled her son's limp body over to her and laid her arm protectively across his chest while trying to breathe in Alejandro's scent. But instead of smelling of leather and horses and Alejandro, he smelled of sweat and blood and decay. When she looked up both Joaquin and Alejandro were nothing more than skeletons…

Where did she go wrong? Armand was dead! How had he murdered her entire family so quickly and why had he left her alive to suffer?

Her vision blurred and swam and changed, revealing a scene that was all too familiar: she was fighting at the mines with Diego de la Vega and Don Rafael, meanwhile Alejandro fought Captain Love. And no matter how many times she had this dream and knew how it was going to end, she was never quick enough and the Captain always decapitated Alejandro before she could stop him. Elena would run to him and trip, somehow, conveniently landing a few feet from Alejandro. She would drag her body to his as tears fell down her cheeks and bury her face in Alejandro's chest. As she looked up at her future husband's headless body her tears caused everything to shift and change again.

This time when her vision cleared she blinked her eyes open to reveal her dark bedroom and Alejandro sleeping peacefully beside her. She moved to wake him and confirm that none of this was real and that it was all a dream but he would not turn to her. Struggling she sat up and pulled on his shoulder, forcing him to roll over. As he settled onto his back she became aware of the perfect circle shape of a bullet hole, in the exact center of his otherwise flawless forehead.

She sat up, screaming. Her heart was pounding in her chest and sweat had begun to leak onto her brow. Alejandro was lying as he always did next to her; tentatively she reached over and touched his back, feeling his muscles and heartbeat. Softly she called out to him, hoping that she had finally woken from her nightmares, "Alejandro?"

"Of course not, my love," Armand turned and faced her.

"Armand! Where is Alejandro, what have you done to him?" Elena found herself out of bed and standing. She quickly reached for the heavy candlesticks that sat on the dresser behind her.

"Alejandro? Who is this Alejandro you keep speaking about?" Armand seemed genuinely confused, like he had never heard of Alejandro before. "Let's stop this nonsense, my love… come back to bed…"

Suddenly her eyes flew open to reveal Alejandro's sweet face, a concerned wrinkle creasing his brow. Elena was breathing hard from her nightmares, and she found herself in a cold sweat, like she had been running. She swallowed the scream that had been fighting to escape her throat as she raised a hand uncertainly to his face,

"Are you real?" he didn't feel like a dream, but with the night she had already had she figured one could never be too safe.

"Yes, I am real," he replied softly and in that instant she pulled his face down to hers, needing to taste him on her lips, the real him. After a few short minutes Alejandro broke the kiss and then sat up in the bed. To Elena the covers suddenly seemed cold and uninviting without him and she rose to crawl into his lap. She leaned her head upon his tired shoulder and waited for her heartbeat to slow. Alejandro wrapped his arms around her protectively and ran his fingers distractedly through his wife's velvety curls.

Time passed in silence, though Elena knew not how much time, it could have been seconds or minutes or hours or days, even months or years, before Alejandro finally spoke,

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, his tone unsure. Elena didn't have nightmares often but on the few occasions when she did they left her drenched in sweat and she would find herself counting down the seconds to the less frightening daylight. But at the same time Alejandro had a right to know what her subconscious feared. After much debate and internal conflict she made her decision with a shaky breath, hoping her voice would stay strong and not tremble…

"The worst were Armand… he was alive again and he killed both you and Joaquin," her voice hitched at the fake memory that still seemed vivid and fresh… and real.

"I couldn't protect either of you… And I had known he was here before anyone, It was my fault you died…" she let her sentence trail off and buried her face in her husband's strong chest, breathing in his familiar scent. She clenched her eyes shut tight, trying desperately to get rid of the awful images from her memory; attempting to rewrite the history in her mind, trying in vain to rid herself of blood. A sudden thought crossed her mind, something from Shakespeare that she read a once at finishing school in Spain. It was from Macbeth if she remembered correctly… it was no matter which play it came from, "Out damned spot, out!" kept running through her mind and she couldn't help but think how fitting it was.

"It's okay, Elena," Alejandro soothed, smoothing her hair, "He can't harm our family any more, I promise."

"I know, but it still terrifies me when I think of the things he almost did… the things I almost let him do…"

"Hey, hey, hey, don't talk like that. It wasn't your fault," Alejandro reprimanded his wife for thinking such atrocious thoughts. The rest of the nightmares resurfaced with bright colors in Elena's mind and she clutched her husband, holding him closer to her. "The others aren't really worth mentioning," she decided then.

She felt like a child, running from her bad dreams and seeking a safe place in her awareness but she didn't care. And as long as Alejandro was there to comfort her everything would always be better when she woke. Slowly her sleepless night caught up to her and she began to tire, the couple laid back down on the mattress and soon Elena found herself in dreams once more. But these dreams were entirely safe, with Alejandro's protective arm still around her waist the nightmares had no weak point to prey upon in her subconscious mind and she dreamt of times long ago when she was a child and another man chased off her nightmares… before even Don Rafael chased off her bad dreams. She remembered a lovely woman wearing Elena's face and a father who watched the women in his family with a love so intense she thought it would set fire to any who got in its way. With her husband to protect her she dreamt of Diego de la Vega and then her father turned into Alejandro… watching over Joaquin in his crib. And, finally, her vision blurred and she simply slept, free from dreams and, for the first time since the day Armand resurfaced in her life, free from fear.

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed it, it kind of came to me randomly one day. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you will review, it would mean a lot to me. I wish you a great day/night!**


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